


Old Hollywood Disappointments

by Sailing the Malky Way (Fan_by_Proxy)



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Don't worry no one dies and Ash starts getting help WAY earlier than in game canon, M/M, Old Hollywood Problems, Toreador Gary, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:47:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29974152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fan_by_Proxy/pseuds/Sailing%20the%20Malky%20Way
Summary: [A side story set in the Nosferatu Lacroix setting featured in "A Song for the Sewers", in which Gary is a Toreador and Isaac's ex]Gary Golden and Isaac Abraams have a long, not always positive relationship in most canons: in this one, a promise of forever is broken by Isaac's wandering attention.
Relationships: Gary Golden & Ash Rivers, Isaac Abrams/Gary Golden
Comments: 8
Kudos: 2





	1. A Brief History of Everything

Gary Golden had _immense_ potential: the man had come to Hollywood ready to dance and act and charm his way to the top of the cast list, and he’d made an astronomical leap from a single line in the background of a dinky little comedy draw to a breakout named role in the early season’s popcorn draw ‘April Parade*’. He was witty without being saccharine, armed with a ready smile and a _knack_ for making leading ladies and chorus girls alike feel like the center of the universe. And the man had _the look_ : thick dark hair that could be combed back neatly or mussed for the appropriate level of devilish seduction; a strong trunk and long legs that didn’t quiver when he had to pick up a girl for a swing. Really, the only problem with Gary Golden was the same problem that followed a lot of Hollywood’s up-and-comers…and that wasn’t _necessarily_ a problem for Isaac Abraams. The older producer had run--quite literally--into the devil-may-care newcomer at an otherwise interminably dull after-sundown pool party. The run had resulted in both of them getting a dousing of gin-and-tonic on their shoes, and Isaac feeling _that flutter_ as he met Golden’s impossible green eyes in person for the first time. He’d followed the actor around for the rest of the party, traded contact cards, did all that was proper _and a little that wasn’t_. Those stolen kisses and light pants-palming in Fonda’s bathroom were the start of a _torrid_ affair, the beginning of which brought a considerable amount of joy to Isaac’s nights.

Then things changed…

Isaac sat up with his back against the tufted headboard, a cigarette moldering away between his lips as he looked over the day’s Variety pages. There was still a little heat in the sheets swaddled around his hips, and he could hear Gary puttering around the bathroom as the handsome man cleaned up after their dalliance. “Not making a production out of it, are you?” Isaac called out distractedly; even if torpor wasn’t a factor, there was no way for Gary to spend the rest of the night and into the day in his bed. There were already rumors enough just because his Golden boy was handsome and charming and big-mouthed, after all. And the fixers could only handle so much at any given time.

Gary met the light admonition with a laugh. “Weren’t you the one who told me everything’s a production?” They’d fooled around too long for a follow-up shower; he was having to make do with a wipe down and a little primp to look at least semi-presentable when he swanned out the door.

Isaac rolled his eyes. “ _Gary_!”

“Keep your shorts on; I just got distracted counting the gray hairs!” Gary called back, studying himself in the mirror. There were only a couple, but maybe if his temples went a little lighter, he could start getting into movies other than the funnies; not that he disliked them, but Gary Golden was _sure_ he could knock something dramatic right out of the ballpark, if he got the chance.

The paper in Isaac’s hands went from legible to hamster cage lining as his hands closed convulsively. “What?” he managed to get out in a tone that was much smoother and calmer than he felt.

“Just a couple, I don’t need the Rit yet!” Gary snorted. “My pop grayed early too, you know?” he started to pull on his clothes. “Wouldn’t mind getting a little more _distinguished_ at the temples; might start pulling those _serious_ roles--” he said with a laugh that turned into a painful, wracking cough. That had been happening more often; the awful coughs that tasted sour and made his bones ache and took forever to catch his breath after.

The reminder that Gary Golden of the impossible green-eyed charm could still age was bad enough, but then the coughing? There were shadows crossing his star that Isaac _did not like_. The vampire bolted from the bed, forgetting himself for just a brief moment; fortunately his lover was doubled over the sink and missed the all-too-sudden appearance behind him. “Gary?”

Gary spat into the sink, turning on the water to force the sticky, frothy express away. He huffed, trying to pull air in fast enough to answer--to pull in air fast enough to play this fit off, like the ones before. Isaac was some kind of other high-strung, even in the relative privacy of his own home; he didn’t want to set the notoriously private man off on an anxious tangent.

“Gary.” Isaac repeated, more insistently. He put a hand on Gary’s back, the warmth that bled through his undershirt almost scorching as a dark fear started to take hold.

“Just a cough.” Gary rasped, straightening slowly so Isaac didn’t think he was shrugging off the touch; it was hard enough to go around outside and keep distant, he’d be _damned_ if he’d put off affection in rare private. “Don’t start in on me, Isaac. I’m seeing a doc next week.” he tried to clear the rasp and rattle from his throat, wincing.

“See that you do.” Isaac replied distractedly. He stepped back, watching carefully as Gary finished dressing up and then carefully tousled his look; the vultures that circled Hollywood could claim what they will, but the story of a fellow stumbling home after an all-night poker game was just as much a fit as the more salacious tales.

Gary snorted, rolling his eyes. “Don’t worry, _ma_. It ages you.” he teased, turning around and reaching out to cup Isaac’s cheek. The skin was, as always, smooth and chilly. “Get under the covers, wouldja? You’re an ice cube all over again.” He said affectionately; how Isaac didn’t spend more time on the sickbed, with his pallor and low temperature, Gary didn’t know.

Isaac stepped closer, hands finding their comfortable home on Gary’s hips. “Take care, Gar’?” he said softly, watching the handsome man’s mouth curl in that will-melting smile.

“Be wise, Is’.” Gary replied playfully, kissing him lightly on the lips before sidling away and heading for the door. As long as the streets were empty, he could slip home and catch a nap before he had to be on the lot for another day’s work. He’d have to remember to do some extra stretches to warm up before filming though; Isaac really knew how to rattle a man’s spine!

Isaac watched him leave, a stricken expression on his face. He touched his lips, where the faint taste of _death_ lingered; something was wrong with his golden boy, his silver-screen star, _his_ Gary…something that doctors wouldn’t find until it stripped him of his looks and his health and his life. There was really only _one_ solution to this problem.

Some nights after the unkind reality of time slapped Isaac across the face, he sat with Gary in a booth at Romanoff’s, watching his lover tuck into one of the restaurant’s flagstaff dinners. “Gary? What would you do if you could live forever?” he asked.

Gary chuckled, savoring the bite of fatty red meat a bit longer before swallowing and wiping his mouth neatly. “Why do you think I’m in the pictures, Isaac?” he teased. “You’ll see, I’ll keep racking up the breaks and be a household name for the ages.”

If he had a nickel for every time he’d heard that kind of brag…well, technically he _did_ have the nickels; Isaac fiddled with the glass of red wine in front of him. “I’m being wholly serious, Gary. Even if the doctor’s sent you off with a clean bill,” that Isaac privately doubted was entirely correct, “every day you’re a little older, and…well…” he trailed off.

“Well aren’t you down in the mouth tonight?” Gary said drily. “What’s got you so mopey, huh? I told you, _I’m fine_.”

“I want to keep you forever.” Isaac said simply. “I want your star to shine bright for the rest of time, and light my way until the world ends.” He said it frankly, as if that desire hadn’t backfired on him before.

“You old _romantic,_ you!” Gary replied, feeling the flush creep up his neck. There were times when he thought their whole _thing_ was just a romp for the producer, just Isaac sowing a wild oat and dancing with the devil for the sake of it; and then he would turn and say something that landed as hard and mean as Cupid’s arrow. He didn’t want to be like Tracy, who’d married a woman like you did and had kids like you did and was purported to hate _all of it_ , and he didn’t want to lose his chance in Hollywood…but if this was Isaac opening the door to shacking up like a couple of ‘confirmed bachelors’…he’d say yes. He’d say yes _immediately_.

“I’m being _serious,_ Gary.” Isaac snapped. Then he did something he rarely did, even in the hallowed booths of Romanoff’s; he put his hand on the table, palm up and expression expectant.

Gary grinned, putting his silverware down and immediately laying a hand over Isaac’s. “You want me forever? I think I can make room in my schedule for you.” he said warmly as Isaac’s fingertips tickled his palm. “But only if you _really_ want me.” Gary tempered playfully.

“I do.” Isaac said solemnly, relishing the heat coming off Gary’s skin. He ignored the warning pangs in his gut, the ones that said ‘ _don’t do this again_ ’ ‘ _you know better_ ’; this time would be different. _Gary_ was different. Things would work out.

Things did not work out.

The loss of his career hit as hard as losing all his connections back home; but the _real_ salt in the wound was the way Isaac’s attention wandered barely a _year_ after he’d pulled the veil off Gary’s eyes. Within a decade, Gary found himself sleeping alone above the dance floor of the shoddy warehouse club Isaac had _gifted_ him, debating walking out onto the Boulevard and setting himself on fire for one last hurrah. He honestly couldn’t decide what had put him off it; maybe because a pile of ashes wouldn’t grief Isaac past ten minutes? Or maybe it was just that Gary Golden--who’d dreamed of being a star--couldn’t resist a good time. He would take Isaac’s paltry pay-off and turn it into a place where folks wanted to _be_ , not just be _seen_.

Someplace people wanted to be _seen_ was easy: pay off the right reviewers, go broke trying to keep on top of whatever flash-in-the-pan was popular for a meager few weeks, chew up and spit out fresh-faced staff by the dozens like every other part of Hollywood, all while acting like like a pompous king and ignoring the way the world changed _except_ to lament the changes.

But some place to _be_? That would take more care; keep one eye on trends to bring in fresh blood and balance that against classics that people could rely on, and a sense of comfort and loyalty that would stand out against the changing landscape. And all the while, he’d work at being a thorn in Isaac’s side…

After all, Isaac _had_ said ‘forever’


	2. Been There, Done That, and I Want to Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somewhat older, a touch wiser, Gary Golden reaches out to Isaac's next 'shining star forever'

“The fuck do _you_ want?” Ash demanded, peering blearily through the crack in the door. He’d only just managed to peel himself off the floor after another day’s miserable death-sleep, surrounded by dirty laundry and the wrecked memorabilia that had once been a source of amusement; the final insult being that there was nothing he could take in to numb the misery. And now one of the old-timers was at his door, probably sent by _Isaac_ to try and convince him to pretty up and _be grateful_.

Gary stood with his hands in his pockets, posture relaxed and face neutral despite the overwhelming urge to cry for the poor kid. He remembered these bitter nights: when the weight of _forever_ was the only thing keeping you company and the person who should’ve been a source of comfort had screwed off to who-knows-and-who-cares. “Came to check on you, kid. Heard about what happened, and uh…figured you could use a friendly ear to bend.” He saw the kid sneer and the door start to close; Gary shoved his hand through the gap to stop him, ignoring the flare of pain across his knuckles as they scraped the frame.

For a brief moment, Ash debated throwing his weight on the door; it’d snap the old timer’s wrist and hurt him, and maybe _that_ would get him to go away. The urge to lash out passed almost as fast as it had come on; hurting someone else didn’t make _him_ feel better, ever. Instead, he’d retreat deeper into the condo, maybe crawl under something until the guy went away.

“I’ve been you, you know.” Gary said.

That caught Ash’s attention. He turned around, face contorted with rage. “Like _hell_ you have! You don’t know me, you aren’t me, you’ll never _be_ me!” he yelled. “So just-just-just _go away_! Leave me alone! Let me _die_!” he punched the panel next to the door, putting another hole in the drywall that had only just been recently patched.

“Oh yeah, kid…I’ve been you.” Gary repeated quietly, thumbing a tear away from the corner of his eye. “Isaac did me the same way, just about.” he added. “So I’m here, offering a…well, an ear to bend and a shoulder to scream on, if that’s what you need.”

“Isaac sent you.” Ash said flatly, and was startled when the old timer laughed; he had a harsh, rasping laugh. It was kind of ugly sounding, but the humor in it seemed… _real_.

“Kid, if anything, he’d probably tell you to slam the door on me. I’m a _bad_ influence, like all good exes.” Gary replied, still chuckling; he shook his head at the new kid’s stunned face. “You didn’t know? Well…maybe we’re not _exactly_ the same. Just as well, you can do better than somebody who leaves you hanging for the next big thing.”

Ash looked at the hand that had invaded his space, and the sliver of man visible through the gap. He made out a bright green eye and dark hair, and part of a smile. The old-timer wore chinos and a polo shirt that was a little tight across the shoulders, and the watch on his wrist probably cost as much as the condo Ash was still trying to trash. “Why would you want to help me?” he asked softly.

“Because I feel bad for you…I _was_ you, a little bit. Lost my career and everything I knew, had Isaac in my ear telling me it was better that way, because then I’d be forever. Except he’s got a _real_ short sense of ‘forever’…” Gary shook his head. “I remember jumping off into the ocean and sinking to the bottom, of trying to leave my curtains open so I’d sleep through dying; I thought about walking jaybird naked down the Boulevard as the sun came up, just so I could go out in a _real_ flash.” After the spiel, Gary eased his hand out of the slim space he’d forced it through.

Ash closed the door lightly…and then undid the chain and opened it wider. “Why…why didn’t you?”

“I’ll be honest with you kid…it was out of spite.” Gary said, driven to honesty. “Me as a pile of ash, Isaac can sweep away and make up a story that soothes what little heart he’s got; me as myself, standing here right now? I can be pebble in his shoe, a fly in his ointment, a thorn in his cat’s paw logic.” he chuckled. “Can I come in, kid? You don’t gotta say yes…but these shoes are pinching my toes something _fierce_.” It was an old bit, the kind of thing he’d used as a much younger man to get in doors when he sold door-to-door, before moving to Hollywood.

“The…the place is a mess.” Ash said, suddenly ashamed even as he moved out of the way to let the old-timer in.

“That’s alright. Depression’s a helluva thing; it’s got a name now though, which is miles ahead of where we used to be.” Gary said easily as he stepped in. “I won’t make you take any help you don’t want…but…I can be as ‘here’ as you need. The first nights are awful and frightening…and then they’ll get real lonely.” he said sagely. “Maybe you’re already in the lonely part, if you and Isaac weren’t uh…” he made a vague gesture.

“We weren’t.” Ash rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean I thought maybe he wanted to, but he never said--and I mean not that--well not with _him_ , but…fuck.” he shook his head. “Sorry. Everything’s just…mud.”

“Yeah… _yeah_ , I get that.” Gary nodded. “How about you go take a shower, put some clean briefs on, huh? You had anything to drink yet?”

Ash shook his head. There _was_ a gnawing pang in his guts, but the misery did a good job stifling the panic that usually came with hunger. He was, officially, too sad to even try to feed.

“Can’t have that now…you go, get cleaned up. I’ll take you to my place, we’ll get you a glass…get you outta this place for a while. You want me to call in some night cleaners? Get the place spiffed up?”

There was a tightness in Ash’s chest and a pressure in his face that made him turn away sharply, to hide the naked, vulnerable need to cry. “ _Why_ are you here?” he repeated.

“Because I’ve been you…and it’s hard to get over that all by your lonesome.” Gary said frankly. “If I’m being a little too pushy, well…that’s just the experience talking. You can tell me to kiss off, and I will for tonight…but I’ll be back again tomorrow to look in on you, until you’re ready to come with me.”

Ash struggled to swallow, to push the lump in his throat down somewhere more manageable. “I guess I’ll go with, it’s not like I’ve got plans.” he tempered.

“Ah, but now you do, kid! You’re coming with me, and that’s a plan.” Gary countered.

Ash shook his head. “My name is _Ash_. If you don’t mind, old man.”

“Yeah, well I’m Gary Golden--call me ‘old man’ again, I’ll start waxing on about _the old days_ , make you think Isaac’s standing here.” he threatened playfully.

For the first time in too long, Ash made a genuinely amused noise that was something like a laugh. “Making me regret opening the door here, Mr. Golden.”

“Call me Gary; go get a shower ki-- _Ash_. And some clean skivvies. We’ll go to my place--Cleo’s, you probably seen it at least once from the outside. You can tell me what you think.” Gary said amiably.

He _had_ seen it from the outside more than a few times; it was a different kind of club, not quite exclusive but not scummy. You could find a dealer but they didn’t deal out in the open and the bouncers were hardasses; he’d only been in one time, well before Isaac and ‘Negative Zero’ and everything--just another nobody who wanted to be _somebody_. Ash turned away from the older vampire, moving a couple of steps away before hesitating. “Do you…I mean are you sure there are… _safe_ night-time cleaners?”

“Oh yeah, Ash. We got a corner market on a lot of stuff. Get this place spiffed up, it’ll do you good when you come back.” Gary replied. “In fact, I’ll make the call while you clean yourself up. You don’t worry about this; the _old man’s_ got it.” he winked.

Ash shook his head as he walked away. He didn’t know exactly _why_ he was cooperating; Gary would probably turn out to be just as immutably obnoxious as Isaac, under all the helpful teasing. Maybe this was just the last gasp, his last pretended effort _to live_ before he committed to walking out to greet the sun. Or maybe there was still just the _tiniest_ sliver of optimism left in him, one that wanted to believe there was at least _one_ person in the whole damn world who understood even a little bit of what he was feeling. In any case, Ash _would_ get in the shower and he _would_ let the Kindred with the striking green eyes take him around for the night…

**Author's Note:**

> *the title I based this on was "Easter Parade", because making timeline-adjacent titles is a fun game :D


End file.
